


The Other Side

by Waitlist



Series: Waitlist's DA Collection [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Blood Magic, Fluff and Angst, Grey Warden Joining, Jowan deserved better, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-11-10 18:20:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11132238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waitlist/pseuds/Waitlist
Summary: Anders finds a familiar figure in the hands of the Templars.





	The Other Side

**Author's Note:**

> started this 2+ years ago, found it yesterday, absolutely had to finish it.

Anders was used to people coming in and out of Vigil’s Keep on the days between his adventures with the Warden-Commander. Nobles nodded and addressed him with respect simply for being a Warden. It was an immensely satisfying change from being sneered at by Templars, and sometimes, other mages. He decided that it was the best of both worlds: respect and safety of the Warden status, without the annoying nobility-pandering of poor Lady Commander Cousland.   
  


On one evening, they had returned to the Keep from business in Amaranthine. Nathaniel split off to check out the new traders, Oghren poured drinks for himself and Sigrun, and Cousland grumbled about speaking with the Seneschal. Anders found himself alone. Though, it wasn’t unwelcome. He went out into the courtyard, taking Ser Pounce-A-Lot, allowing him to roam free for a while.   
  


There was a pleasant bustle of soldiers, as usual, but a conversation between two Templars caught Anders’ attention.  
 

“...a dangerous apostate. The sooner we get to the Circle, the better. Can’t wait to be rid of him.”  
 

At first thought, Anders bristled, wondering if they were talking about him. He continued to listen.  
  


“Lad hasn’t put up a fight yet, anyhow. Do you reckon he’s biding his time?”  
 

“It’s one straight path from here to the Circle, unless we stop at old Lothering. S’got no chance.”  
 

When the Templars moved on, Anders knew he had to find out who they were talking about. The unfortunate apostate mage, who was being held in the cells, was in a strikingly similar situation to how Anders came upon the Keep. A flash of hope made him consider saving or Conscripting this mage. First, however, he had to investigate.  
 

With a casual saunter, Anders made his way into the dungeon. A handful of Templars stood about, casting him suspicious glances that he deflected with a pleasant smile.  
 

“Warden business, you know,” Anders would say if the guards frowned at his approach. It was a magical password that made them all step out of his way, and he loved it.  
 

Soon enough he reached the apostate’s cell. Before announcing his presence, Anders wanted to get a closer look at the mage…  
 

“Jowan?! Andraste’s nightgown, _you’re_ the scary apostate?” The words flew from his lips, excitement and shock rising to his tongue. His surprise was matched by his old friend.  
 

“Anders? What- how-, why are you…? Holy Maker!”  
 

The two mages grinned at each other from either side of the cell bars. Anders recalled the last time he’d seen Jowan, all the way before his latest Circle escape. They’d been best of friends, partners in crime - except Jowan had never agreed to escape with him. Now, seeing his friend as the Templar prisoner was ironic.  
 

Anders folded his arms and peered at Jowan with mock scrutiny, “Wow, now there’s a miracle. Have you gotten taller, shorty?”  
 

“Oi! Maybe I have. Is that actual stubble you’re growing, or did it rub off of your ridiculous pauldrons?” Jowan shot back with a smirk. Anders laughed quietly, so as not to attract the Templars or guards.  
 

“So, you finally decided to get out of the Tower! I’m so proud of you. Then again, you also got yourself caught. How long did it take huh? Did you beat my record?”  
 

As Anders spoke with familiarity and smiles, Jowan’s own smile faltered. Taking notice right away, Anders carried on chatting, in an attempt to ease Jowan’s anxiety. Of course, Anders understood what it was like being inside the cage, so he did his best to comfort him.  
 

“Well, I was in Amaranthine for a while…” he trailed off, seeming unwilling to share his tale.  
 

“Hey, I managed to make six different comebacks into the outside world. And now I’m here for good, pretty much.” Anders spoke in a softer voice, ”I can pull a few strings in the Keep for you, if you like.”  
 

Jowan laughed nervously, “I wish it were that easy, Anders.”  
 

Before he could ask any more questions, a burly, mean-looking Templar interrupted.  
 

“Warden!” He approached in his arrogant stride, as all Templars did. “I ask that you step back from the prisoner. He’s very dangerous, and will be taken from the Vigil’s Keep by dawn.”  
 

Anders glanced between the serious stare of the Templar, and the fidgeting Jowan who refused to meet his eyes. Disagreeing with Templars was second nature to him.  
 

“‘Dangerous’?” Jowan?” He turned to his friend, “Which nobles did you set on fire to earn that title, eh?”  
 

Unfortunately, his joke did not shed amusement on the situation. Instead, it’s possible he had made the room even more uncomfortable. The Templar spoke.  
 

“This apostate may have once been a friend of the Circle, but he is not the man you knew. This man is maleficar; a blood mage.”

 

* * *

 

 Jowan flinched. He would have liked to tell Anders himself, but the news was broken. For a moment, Anders’ mouth opened and closed repeatedly, like he was going to speak. There were no more friendly smiles on his face.  
 

“Blood magic?”  
 

Anders was asking Jowan directly, still grasping at the newfound information. He wasn’t prepared to look his old friend in the eye and admit to his crimes - so he settled for nodding, his gaze at the floor. Shame coloured his ears pink.  
 

“Jowan, I know you. You’d better have a good reason for this,” His voice dropped into the lower serious-Anders tone. He turned to the Templar.  
 

“I’d like some time alone with the prisoner to question him further.”  
 

The Templar guard tensed, reluctant to take orders from the mage. “There is no questioning needed, Warden. We caught him in the act twice, and now he’s under strict Chantry supervision, for the time being.”  
 

“Well,” Anders clenched his jaw, “I’d like to ask him some questions. Surely I don’t need to drag the Commander away from her important business?”  
 

There was a pause as the Templar considered. “Don’t doubt the Commander will hear of this. Have your five minutes,” He gestured for his guards to move out, “You’ll need it to say your goodbyes.”  
 

Once the room was empty, Jowan faced Anders.  
 

“I was looking for you. In Amaranthine.”  
 

“And _that’s_ why you got caught doing blood magic,” his voice was heavy with sarcasm, and Jowan stepped towards the cell door in frustration.  
 

“I had proof that they were going to make me Tranquil, and they were going to do it soon.” He gripped the bars. “I was powerless, Anders, counting my last hours before becoming one of them mindless, pitiful creatures. Tell me you would have done something different.”  
 

Jowan hated how desperate he sounded, but he needed Anders to understand. He needed someone to accept that the blood magic was reasonable. Seeing that his friend was getting upset, Anders raised his hands and spoke in a softer voice.  
 

“It’s okay, Jowan, calm down,” He couldn’t bring himself to smile, “Just tell me the whole story. You say you found proof?”  
 

Swallowing, Jowan nodded. “Th-there was a Chantry initiate called Lily. We, uh…She was the one who found the papers, then she, June, and I got access to the Tower Basement, and the phylacteries. I destroyed mine, and our freedom was so close. I…” The memory of Lily stirred old regrets in Jowan.  
 

Anders noticed. If a Chantry initiate was found playing friendly with the apprentices, she would surely have been punished, one way or another. It would be a completely different matter if she was found helping a blood mage…  
 

“It was my fault, I know it. I should have told her. Now she’s stashed away in some tower, instead of me,” Jowan looked up at Anders, letting out a miserable laugh, “Funny how that turned out, isn’t it?”  
 

“I’m sorry,” was all Anders could think to say. Lily was clearly quite important to Jowan.  
 

“That’s when I first used blood magic.I never thought I’d need to, but Greagoir and Irving found us. Needless to say, it created a big enough distraction for me to escape _without_ Lily.”  
 

“Sacrifices are made when you have to run to be alive. I understand that.”  
 

“Then you probably know that true freedom doesn’t last long, right?” When Anders nodded, Jowan continued, relaying his story of the Teryn, then Redcliffe, meeting the Commander, and how she freed him.  
 

“We are lucky to have Caitlyn Cousland at our sides,” Anders agreed, “She put me on this side of the bars, with the Wardens.”  
 

“I guess I owe it to her, more than anyone else. Would you… You will tell her that I said thank you, won’t you? After they take me away tomorrow.” He sounded completely defeated, but Anders chuckled.  
 

“Such little faith, my friend! You think I’m letting the Templars take you away now?”  
 

“I don’t really have a place to ask for forgiveness. Twice.”  
 

“This isn’t about forgiveness,” Anders’ tone hardened, feeling passionate about the subject, “This is the unjust treatment of a desperate and threatened mage. And you’re my friend,” He added with a smirk.  
 

A Templar guard pushed the door open, one hand on his sheath like he expected the two mages to ambush him.  
 

“Lady Warden-Commander would like to speak with you, Mage Warden. I also have orders to put the magic-capping bracers on the prisoner.”  
 

Anders and Jowan glanced at each other, seeking reassurance. Instead of moving, Anders spoke again to Jowan.  
 

“I will ask the Commander first, but… Consider joining the Wardens. It is dangerous, and you could die, but you’d be free of Chantry custody. No more running.” Anders expected him to protest before he replied with renewed stability.  
 

“I’d rather die free, than live a soulless Templar slave.”  
 

The guard cut in nervously, “I’ve got orders-”  
 

“Yes, all right, I’m going. Be nice to the apostate, Templar.”  
 

With one last look of hope between each other, Anders left to find Cousland. He had to convince her before they took his friend forever. Sweet-talking was his speciality, but there was still a tugging doubt in himself.  
 

In the cell, Jowan’s magic-capping bracers were secured for the night, and he thanked the Maker for Anders. The night ahead would be mostly sleepless, filled with uncertainty and questions, his trust in Anders shaking.

 

* * *

 

Jowan was woken by dim light from the window and the clanking sound of keys. The Templar outside was unlocking his cell.  
 

“The Warden-Commander really stuck her neck out for you, blood mage,” He said gruffly by way of explanation, “You’re lucky you got friends in high places.”  
 

“Wha...What?” Still waking up, Jowan put the pieces together. That meant that Anders must’ve persuaded Cousland.  
 

Relief caused a laugh to spill from his mouth. The Templar removed the bracers, and stepped aside from the door to let him out. Power flowed back into his fingertips, causing a dangerous thought to flicker in his mind. He quickly cast it aside. He had trusted Anders, now it was time for Anders to trust him.  
 

He let himself be escorted into the Keep, where he was presented with a small gathering of Wardens, Templars, and nobles alike. Some of them had sour expressions on their faces, clearly objecting to his presence. Others were unaffected - particularly a pair of dwarves. Anders stood beside the Commander, who held a steadfast gaze, challenging the others to speak against her. It was intimidating, even for Jowan, so he had a lot of respect for his new leader. Anders himself was looking directly at Jowan. They exchanged a small smile.  
 

“This is the apostate in question, who was passing through Vigil’s Keep under Chantry supervision. His name is Jowan, and he has once practiced blood magic,” Cousland’s voice matched her stare. Anyone in the audience that had been muttering now remained silent.  
 

“Jowan has been conscripted by another Warden, so he will begin his Joining later today. I would like everyone in the Keep to treat him as any other Warden would be treated, should he survive.”  
 

The mage swallowed, suddenly fearing his Joining. For all his brave words of resisting the Templars last night, he would hate to die after coming so far. He imagined that there were some people here who would prefer he died.  
 

Varel, the Seneschal of the Keep, spoke next, “We appreciate the Chantry’s co-operating in this, of course.”  
 

“Yes,” Cousland added sweetly, “I wish them luck on their way out of the Keep.”  
 

“Thank you for your hospitality, Commander. We will be returning to Denerim shortly.” The tall Templar who was in charge of Jowan’s arrest said curtly.  
 

People filed out as the meeting was over, leaving only most of the Wardens. Anders approached with a big smile on his face, and Jowan found that he was wearing one too.  
 

“A free man, eh? The Lady Commander isn’t very fond of the Templars either, so it was pretty easy to let you off.” As the Commander came over to the mages, Anders flung himself down in a dramatic bow. Jowan tensed, wondering if he needed to do the same.  
 

“Caitlyn, you beautiful soul! You have my eternal gratitude for saving my good friend, naturally.”  
 

Cousland laughed, “Save it, Anders. Your ‘eternal gratitude’ would consist of washing the dishes for one evening, then revoking it.” Her good-natured change in attitude was welcoming to Jowan. She addressed him next.  
 

“As for you, rookie, we’ll need you to collect your Joining materials. We can begin the process as soon as that’s done. For now, I’m heading out to the Turnoble Estate to help with a ‘spawn problem. Sigrun and Nathaniel will come with me.” A sullen rogue Warden nearby nodded sharply, keeping a wary eye on Jowan.  
 

“See that he gets some nice new robes and staff while I’m gone, Anders.”  
 

“Yes, ser!” Anders saluted their Commander. Jowan felt like he should say something.  
 

“I really owe my life to you, Lady Cousland. Twice you’ve saved my life now, and I have nothing else to offer than-, than-”  
 

“Call me Caitlyn. Please don’t worry yourself over it too much, Jowan. The Templars have been practically stepping on my toes recently, so I needed something to show them who was in charge. You are my Brother now.”  
 

Jowan nodded, his nerves easing. “It’s an honour.”  
 

Caitlyn declared she had more requests to take care of before they left, bidding the mages goodbye. With a satisfied smile, Anders swept his friend out of the Keep and into the courtyard. They passed between merchants, asking around for staves, robes, and enchanted boots. Jowan ended up with a small selection to choose from.  
 

“Maker, this is more than I’ve even seen at the Circle! A staff with a dragon’s head carved into it?” He gave it an experimental twirl, and it fizzed gently in his grasp, “The apprentice weapons seem like twigs, in comparison.”  
 

Anders watched him.,“I’m happy you’re impressed. My coin purse won’t forgive you anytime soon, though.”  
 

Jowan faltered, letting the fancy staff down gently. “Maybe twigs are fine…”  
 

“Nonsense! I’m just teasing you,” Anders waved his coin at the merchant. “Ser, we’ll take this cool dragon staff please.”  
 

“Is this really okay? I-I-I don’t have any of my own money, or I’d--”  
 

“Jowan.” Anders put his hands on the shorter mage’s shoulders. “I want to be very truthful with you, alright? Tonight could be the last time you ever see the sun set. I’ve seen what the Joining can do to a person - it corrupts you from the inside out, painfully. The blight doesn’t care if you’re an Andraste-loving saint, or a wanted maleficar.”  
 

He stayed silent for a moment, then a minute. Finally Jowan spoke.  
 

“After everything I’ve done, since Lily, Kinloch, blood magic, I shouldn’t be scared of death. But…”  
 

Anders brought his hands down to Jowan’s, and held them with a comforting squeeze. “Come on. Pick yourself a pretty robe, and let’s go somewhere. I want to show you something.”

 

* * *

 

Jowan felt a lot cleaner and warmer in his new clothes. His new heavy, velvet cloak kept the winter chill away, complete with fur-lined boots that stretched the bounds of any luxury he had known. Anders, dressed in his Warden gear, was leading him down a cobbled path through the woodland.

“Where are we going?”  
 

“A place I found while I was wandering around one day. It’s perfect for getting away from people and responsibilities, plus there’s a sort of...magical feeling to it. I don’t know.” He made a turn off the path, between two huge trees. Jowan followed the other mage into a shaded clearing.  
 

The clearing was perfectly circular. After spending a moment inspecting the ground, he could see the shape of some kind of ancient leaf-vine weaving covering the area. It was like a natural carpet, but clearly made by some civilisation. There was definitely some magic clinging to the clearing - Jowan thought it was probably elven.  
 

Anders waved his arm grandly. “Tada. Here it is. Cool, huh?”  
 

“Yeah… I think I can...feel the Veil on my skin… Do you feel that?”  
 

“I feel something, I guess.”  
 

“It’s like it’s tangible,” Jowan took off his gloves, and rubbed his fingertips together. They were humming with energy. Anders didn’t seem to feel the same thing.  
 

He sat down on a fallen tree. “Maybe because of your, um, old affiliations?”  
 

“Oh. Maybe.” Jowan sat next to him as he conjured a small campfire.  
 

“Can I ask what that was like? I don’t want to try it, or anything, just curious.”  
 

Jowan waved his hand over the growing fire, watching it dance with his hands like he was shaping it. “Terrifying.”  
 

“You don’t have to talk about it-”  
 

“It’s different from just seeing or hearing a demon in a dream. When you actually look into it’s eyes, you can feel it trying to pull you apart, trying t-to manipulate you with words, and inducing emotions that you wouldn’t normally feel.”  
 

Anders silently took one of his bare hands into his own. Jowan didn’t notice.  
 

“I’ve only ever used the actual magic twice. Once when I escaped the tower, then again when the Templars found me. It puts a stain on your soul, Anders. As well as…” His voice became quieter, and he rolled up one of his sleeves. There were two long, pale stripes down his forearm, starting mid-wrist, and disappearing under cloth near the inside of his elbow. One of them was slightly pink and raised, still in the process of healing. Anders flinched.  
 

“It makes you cold. The magic kills your sympathy and c-compassion, like suddenly you don’t care who you hurt. I almost killed Lily and June…” Jowan’s voice was breaking, holding back tears.  
 

“June Machiavel? I remember her.”  
 

“She was the one who...taught me how to talk to the demons. She was a blood mage, too.”  
 

Anders pictured the ghost-pale, quiet but waspish elf who he had once known. He hummed. “That doesn’t really surprise me.”  
 

“But Lily didn’t deserve any of it. They took her away for helping me, I ruined her life, before I told her how I felt.”  
 

“...Did you love her?”  
 

Jowan shifted where he sat. “I-I-I think I did. We were just young, lonely, and rebellious, you know?”  
  


“Oh yeah. I know.” Anders knew that feeling like the back of his hand. He shifted closer, brushing his thigh against the other’s.  
 

“I hate what I did to her. Even after this long, she still taught me how to love someone.”    
 

“But no one taught you how to be loved.”  
 

Jowan finally met Anders’ eyes. “It’s probably too late for me. I’m maleficar.”  
 

“That’s not who you are,” Anders held his gaze with conviction. “We’ve all done bad things in the past to get where we are. Now you’re here, with me, free from towers and Templars. You’re loyal, patient, gifted, kinda cute, and you’ve fought hard for your freedom. So you deserve someone to love you.”  
 

A hot tear rolled down Jowan’s cheek, stinging the cold skin on his face. Anders leaned forward, gently linking their fingers together, and kissed him soft on the lips. The conjured fire gave a small spark.  
 

“Sorry if that was too much.” Anders watched Jowan’s face flush pink.  
 

“Uh. N-no. That was...fine. I used to um, used to have a crush on you, actually.”  
 

He couldn’t help smiling. “Really?”  
 

“Yeah. Not that you were around very often.”  
 

“My apologies.” He stood up, bowing with a wink, “if I had known, I’d’ve swept you off your feet sooner.”  
 

“Anders!” Jowan sounded scandalised, but the other mage just laughed.  
 

“Survive becoming a Warden, and I promise, I’ll be by your side forever.”  
 

“Don’t be cheesy…” He pulled his gloves back on. “I might not survive.”  
 

“You will.”  
 

They met eyes again, something decisively serious within Anders’ expression. Jowan stood up and wiped his cheek dry.  
 

“We should collect your Joining materials, so we can go through with this when Caitlyn gets back.”  
 

“Yeah, alright. Can I...have a minute alone first? Go on without me.” Jowan waved the campfire out of existence.  
 

Anders simply nodded, and began making his way back down the track. The other mage stood in the solemn, magic clearing, watching his breath become pockets of fog that drifted away like passing thoughts. He let the Veil wash over him, through his clothes, between his fingers, and down every scar.  
 

For a moment, he prayed.

 

* * *

 

That evening, Anders and Jowan watched the sunset like old lovers. They made huge, empty promises, and shared deep, lost memories. Anders wanted to make his last hours his best.  
 

Caitlyn prepared the ceremony quietly, with only herself and the other Wardens present. The ominous grey cup stood in the middle of the room. She explained what would happen, and what could become of him in a few brief words, before reciting the traditional lines.  
 

“Join us, brother. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn.  And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten. And that one day, we shall join you.”  
 

Jowan looked at Anders once more.. “See you on the other side, then.”  
 

Anders pulled him into a last bittersweet kiss. He watched him step up and accept the cup, nodding to Caitlyn in thanks and respect. Anders thought he’d never seen someone so brave.  
 

Jowan drank from the cup, tasting fear, decay, and anything but regret, then took a deep breath.  
 

He felt a hand on his shoulder and the world went dark.

 

**Author's Note:**

> jowanmancers in the house lemme here you say "ayo"
> 
> yeah but i'm sorry for this self-indulgent trash, i swear it started as crackfic  
> http://aevani.tumblr.com is my DA blog  
> kudos appreciated!


End file.
